Watcher
by CapSnake
Summary: They rush forward into the light of glory, trumpeting their victories to all. I remain in the shadows. Watching. Ever watchful [ONESHOT...for now]


Kai-centric oneshot for ya. This contains a very watered-down summary of the series from the start to when Kai gets Black Dranzer.  
  
Unfortunately, it will cancel out any other characters Kai interacts with other than the Bladebreakers. It will focus on any MAJOR thing Kai does. Sorry but everything would just get too confusing.  
  
Don't own Beyblade. Or Kai. But I wish I did T_T  
  
Watcher  
  
Always. In every error, every careless mistake, who is the loyal guardian? The unfaltering shield? Me. As always.  
  
Don't get me wrong; I feel nothing for those simpletons. Then what is it that binds me to them? Duty.  
  
They rush forward into the light of glory, trumpeting their victories to all. I remain in the shadows. Watching. Ever watchful.  
  
Things seemed so simple back in the days of the Blade Sharks. The challenges came...and went. Everything was quite basic when you were the most powerful one around. Until the first of them came. The power was incredible. From then, I watched. Marking him as a threat, but I continued on.  
  
The second came. This one possessing the same irritating traits of the first, I grew concerned with this sudden uprising of fresh power. These qualms were buried in the dust with his defeat.  
  
The third...I never fought him. Standing unseen at the edge of the crowd, I observed the fight. The strength was impressive. Yet it was such a pity it rested in such a poor vessel. Another fear banished.  
  
Finally the last battle came. I was up against him. Quite coincidental, that all of this would either be ended or pursued with this one last match. My doubts were right. Failure.  
  
Then, as some twisted consolation prize I was saddled with the care of those three youngsters. Their captain? The small print reads: minder.  
  
Sent off to another tournament, they irked me no end with their childish antics. It was too much. I abandoned my duty, yet they still followed, like small animals wanting a reward. "Team Spirit" they label it. What brought me back to them in the end? The crushing responsibility. Watching them. Minding them.  
  
Yet again, when two of those lackwits failed to show up for a match, I was forced to take action. I put myself forward to substitute myself for the second round. There was no rush, no worry. Only conflict. The descisive battle brought two sides of me into disagreement. My choice could result in their disqualification.  
  
Yet I did thus. A double-edged sword wielded indeed, of compassion...and weariness. I was tired of them. Tired of looking after them. Tired of everything.  
  
Yet, lo and behold, at the brink of defeat, at the last second, they arrive. Like heroes out of a pathetically melodramatic fairy tale, they come to save the day. Such a pity I never liked fairy tales. Their triumph drove the nail into the coffin, trapped again.  
  
Flying off to yet another competition, one of them decides to visit mother- dearest. Sentimentality galore. It is forgotten quickly in the discovery of her loyalties. So much for a joyful reunion. Perhaps they would settle down and mature, in discovering the truth of the cold grey world.  
  
Alas, my hope was lost. The fools. Resourceful, desperate, I'll give them credit for that but...fools. Vanishing off to spy on the enemy? A good tactic, but best used in capable hands. Hours flew by, and I, as their babysitter, was obliged to search for them.  
  
Most fortunately I was able to save the neck of the emotional one. Honestly, they can't stay out of trouble. The result? More concern for the upcoming tournament. Frustration piled upon frustration.  
  
I stepped up for the first battle. Venting it all upon my pitiful opponent, it eased somewhat. All too soon, the irritating one took it upon himself to fall sick right at a match. All of this seems a test, to mock me for even volunteering myself in the first place. This phenomenon seems to be recurring again and again but I gave up my place in the finals, risking the championship...out of pity. Sheer pity.  
  
Of course, now I cannot complain about it as the battle did not go astray.  
  
We were shipped off for the final tournament. What congratulations I wished on the idiots if now gone. Assuming by my 'sacrifices' that they would be getting somewhere, they became just too annoying to bear. Slipping down to the hold, I sat and collected my thoughts.  
  
A chicken will keep banging its head against a wall. Again and again. That statement can be substituted for idiots as well. By now, I would have thought them mature enough to be cautious about their challenges. As always, they fall short of my hopes. Humiliating us all in front of a room- load of bladers, I watched from the sidelines, noting every point.  
  
I have had a growing suspicion that the more accomplished you are, the more you will be surrounded by fools. Does it sound bad? Never fear, reality is cruel. Stranded at a foreign port with a team of chickens in tow, I tell you, whatever being that caused it is severely pushing my role as guardian to the limit.  
  
When there is trouble, it is always me to the rescue. Their inquisitiveness compelled me to intervene. So soon after a defeat and they are already challenging strange opponents.  
  
Our plan was to travel by train, but as usual, something was bound to crop up. The train broke down. In the tunnel. Underwater. In the dark. With who- knows-what hiding down with us. It was just such a nuisance. Ergo, I let them take care of things themselves. Let them taste independence. Watcher was my role, Watcher I became.  
  
By some miracle, they managed to overcome the odds against them.  
  
Finally, after much trial and tribulation, we arrived at our destination. Russia. And once again, I was forced to stick my neck out to prevent the fat fool from humiliating us all. But from doing so, I sense my time- hardened patience beginning to waver. Depositing them in a safe place, I set off for a nice, peaceful walk down Memory Lane. Which, as everyone knows, is never nice nor peaceful.  
  
Everything clamps down: responsibilities, anxiety for the upcoming matches, and twisting it all together, the merciless grip of the past. Everything is just. Too. Much. A crossroad now faces me.  
  
On one side: the task of captaining a motley crew of incompetents, but job and honour maintained. On the other...freedom. Strength. Loneness.  
  
It didn't take long to choose, I can say.  
  
I watch the ebony disk turn. Its black likeness so similar to the twisting vortex in my mind. I gather my thoughts and examine them one by one, like the knifeblades of a lone assassin.  
  
What do I feel about my choice? I feel nothing. They despise me, I know it. Always complaining about my handling, my "evil death-training". I merely give them their choice. A team devoid of the cruel, cold one. Peace and freedom for them and I. Both of us are happy. I do not see any further problem with it.  
  
"Ice King" they call me and so it shall be. Fire and ice are the same. Both elements distant from all else, never letting anything get close. Only to scrutinize from afar.  
  
But what else is there hidden? Guilt? Shame? Disgust at my superficiality? That cannot be, but searching myself, know that is true. I am chained to them, all from one small command, obeyed in a moment of stupidity. Yet now I relinquish it and find that I care?  
  
No. Now I shall wait. As their name suggests, a Watcher need to nothing but watch. I will wait...and see what comes of this.  
  
Watch...and see.  
  
The End  
  
Well? How'dja find it? The button is down there if you need it. 


End file.
